


asmodeus

by salts



Series: you, me, you [1]
Category: Katekyou Hitman Reborn!
Genre: Chrome/Mukuro body sharing thing, F/M, M/M, Multi, Non-Explicit Sex, POV Second Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-16
Updated: 2014-07-16
Packaged: 2018-02-09 03:00:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 629
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1966443
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/salts/pseuds/salts
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>(You’ve always liked demons more than God, anyway.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	asmodeus

Prince of Hell, demon of lust. It’s quite an apt description of him, honestly.

There’s something to be said when you share your body with one of the most wanted criminals to have ever existed, you think — when the other half of your mind, your heart, your  _soul_  has been to hell and back (when he’s tasted, owned,  _created_  every sin known to man), things become endlessly more interesting. Wrath, greed, gluttony; pride, sloth, envy; but there’s one he’s the most familiar with of all, and sometimes you wonder if he’s the demon incarnate.

Then you allow him to take your body, as you always do when  _that_  man roughly slams you into the wall and presses the cold metal of his tonfa against your throat, and you stop wondering.

What your master does is bloody, bruising, merciless, and certainly nowhere near close to  _love_. He is carnal desire,  _lust_ , in its purest form — not gentle, never kind,  _always_  violent — and it fascinates you. All you can do is watch through your mismatched eyes as the man spits scarlet onto the plush rug, lips curled in a near-feral snarl; all you can do is watch as your lips come crashing together in a battle for dominance, with teeth and tongues and swears swallowed by the sheer  _rawness_  of it all.

It’s always been a contest between them, even before you gave him everything you were and everything you ever will be, and not for the first time you’re surprised by how much he seems to enjoy this ceaseless battle. The Cloud man is vicious, a beast in human skin, contained only by an obligation to himself and  _no one else_ ; but your master is a demon, a being who takes pleasure in caging the most wild of creatures and placing them at his beck and call.

You know that it’s for this reason and no other that they are drawn to each other, two opposite ends of a magnet that snap together with such force they crush anything caught between.

When there are fingers pulling at your blue hair and nails digging into your scalp, you feel your mouth curve into the smirk you  _know_  he hates as pride claws at your chest with jagged talons. His grey eyes are filled with loathing, absolute  _hatred_ , consumed by the anger that defines his every move — but there’s lust there, too, because your master is Asmodeus and it’s this type of desire (base, black, purely instinctual) that is his domain.

You’re still watching as your teeth mark his pale skin, your fingernails dragging and leaving angry red lines, and there’s laughter in your ears — who’s biting who, Kyoya-chan? — before your hips snap forward and those grey, stormcloud eyes widen. The hands in your long hair pull harder, the chest beneath your hands heaving, but it wouldn’t be  _them_  if it wasn’t a  _fight_.

The violence builds, same as pleasure, the pain in your scalp only increasing until you feel your body shudder and release; and there’s no time for recovery, either, because that’s for  _herbivores_. There’s another flash of white and you feel teeth sink into your shoulder.

This will take all night — and all day, too, considering how long it’s been since they met last — so you simply remain a spectator in your own body, with only your thoughts to keep you company.

Hibari Kyoya is a fool, you think, for allowing such a demon to drive him to such extremes. You know better than any that this game will only last until the Cloud man breaks (and you hope, for his sake, that it will be gentle).

But then again, it’s the same for you — so you’re probably a fool, too.

(You’ve always liked demons more than God, anyway.)


End file.
